Page 26 of Secrets in the Dark

She startled, then straightened, arms crossing defensively. "I don't think anything. Your personal life is your business."

"Nova—"

"I have rehearsal in twenty minutes." She turned toward a stack of props, rifling through them with unnecessary force. "Some of us can't spend our evenings enjoying cocktails with management."

Her jealousy was as surprising as it was inappropriate given our respective situations. Yet I couldn't deny the surge of satisfaction it triggered—she cared enough to be bothered.

"Gianna Bianchi is a business contact," I explained, moving closer. "She coordinates the high-roller clients I deal for."

"And drapes herself all over you for professional reasons?" Nova snapped, abandoning pretense. "I'm not blind, Roman."

"No, you're jealous." I closed the distance between us. "Which is interesting, considering how determined you've been to keep me at arm's length."

Her chin lifted defiantly. "I'm not jealous. I'm... concerned. That woman is dangerous."

The assessment startled me with its accuracy. "What makes you say that?"

"Instinct." Her eyes met mine directly. "The same instinct that tells me you're not what you appear to be."

We stood in charged silence, mutual suspicion and attraction creating an impossible tension. I should have walked away. Should have maintained operational distance. Should have remembered that any personal entanglement threatened years of careful investigation.

Instead, I said, "You're right. About Gianna. She is dangerous."

Something in my tone must have conveyed the seriousness beneath the admission. Nova's defensive posture softened slightly.

"Then why are you involved with her?"

"I'm not involved with her. I'm..." I searched for a version of the truth I could safely offer. "I'm gathering information."

Her eyes widened. "Information? About what?"

"I can't tell you that." I stepped closer, close enough to catch the faint scent of her perfume—jasmine and something spicier beneath. "Just like you can't tell me why you're hiding behind a stage name, or who's been threatening you, or why you flinch every time security personnel approach."

Her breath caught. "You've been watching me."

"Yes." No point denying the obvious. "Just as you've been watching me."

The admission hung between us, charged with implication. We were both hiding, both lying, both caught in webs of necessary deception.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Because you're in danger." I raised my hand to her face, tracing the curve of her cheek with my thumb. "And despite every professional instinct telling me to maintain distance, I can't seem to stay away from you."

Her pupils dilated, breath quickening at my touch. "This is a mistake."

"Probably." I leaned closer, giving her every opportunity to retreat.

She didn't move, her gaze dropping to my mouth. "We don't even know each other's real names."

"Does that matter right now?"

The last thread of her resistance visibly snapped. She surged forward, hands grasping my shirt as her mouth found mine with desperate intensity.

The kiss obliterated restraint. My arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush against me as her lips parted beneath mine. I tasted her fear, her desperate need for a momentary escape from the dangers closing in around us.

I backed her against the nearest wall, lifting her so we were eye to eye, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer as she deepened the kiss with demanding hunger.

"This doesn't change anything," she gasped as my mouth traveled down her throat. "We still can't—"

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